take care of the space between.
if you read my last entry, you know that i once gave my beloved a mizpah pendant, to represent the bond between us. the inscription on it read "g-d watches between us when we are absent from each other." far from the christian-sounding banality of being "watched over" by g-d, the idea i was struck by when i chose to have the mizpah pendant made, was the idea that the space between people, the chasms we straddle for the sake of connecting, are important, valuable, and deserving of their own protection and care.
i thought, yeah, g-d, if you're able to protect me and the people i love, cool. but perhaps the more important, and certainly more reasonable request is: g-d, protect the sacred space between me and the people i love. sometimes we lose track of what's happening in these spaces, spaces that are no more dictated by intention than by magic, but rather by the complex interactions between speech, action, silence -- the interactions of all the things we and others put out in the world. These are dynamics no one person can claim to predict or be able to control, without trying to strip away someone else's agency.
sometimes people try to "fix" the spaces between. but it's not a thing that can be done by one person alone. to try to do so, is to try to exist alone in the world, to deny others' ability to affect you. no matter what our intentions are, we create worlds between us that are way beyond the bounds of individual control. to really 'fix' (or maybe 'heal' is a better word) the space between us requires full participation from everyone involved -- real collaboration -- without the intrinsically dehumanizing fantasy of unilateral action.*
if you have known me for long, you probably know that empathy is one of the political concepts i hold closest to my heart. it's just a word, just a framing, but for me it represents the ethical impulse that undergirds all meaningful solidarity praxis. empathy, for me, names the moment where sadness and despair move to action, where paternalistic reactions like pity (which isn't so far from contempt) are replaced by a recognition and appreciation of difference, and a desire to throw lines out across the chasms between us, but never to erase or collapse them entirely. those chasms give meaning to our connection, our experiences.
we have all encountered that person who says "oh yeah, me too" to every experience you describe... it's kind of like the empath demon version of Penelope. it's SO FUCKING ANNOYING. why? because it prioritizes the sameness of experience, the collapse of experience, over the invaluable process of listening to someone else's experience, finding sites of connection and sites of difference, and appreciating both.
when people act unaccountably, there is always a lack of care for the space between. often, a denial of its existence. sick.
*my favorite levinas quote speaks to this: "Violence is to be found in any action in which one acts as if one were alone to act; as if the rest of the universe were there only to receive the action; violence is consequently any action which we endure without at every point collaborating in it."
i thought, yeah, g-d, if you're able to protect me and the people i love, cool. but perhaps the more important, and certainly more reasonable request is: g-d, protect the sacred space between me and the people i love. sometimes we lose track of what's happening in these spaces, spaces that are no more dictated by intention than by magic, but rather by the complex interactions between speech, action, silence -- the interactions of all the things we and others put out in the world. These are dynamics no one person can claim to predict or be able to control, without trying to strip away someone else's agency.
sometimes people try to "fix" the spaces between. but it's not a thing that can be done by one person alone. to try to do so, is to try to exist alone in the world, to deny others' ability to affect you. no matter what our intentions are, we create worlds between us that are way beyond the bounds of individual control. to really 'fix' (or maybe 'heal' is a better word) the space between us requires full participation from everyone involved -- real collaboration -- without the intrinsically dehumanizing fantasy of unilateral action.*
if you have known me for long, you probably know that empathy is one of the political concepts i hold closest to my heart. it's just a word, just a framing, but for me it represents the ethical impulse that undergirds all meaningful solidarity praxis. empathy, for me, names the moment where sadness and despair move to action, where paternalistic reactions like pity (which isn't so far from contempt) are replaced by a recognition and appreciation of difference, and a desire to throw lines out across the chasms between us, but never to erase or collapse them entirely. those chasms give meaning to our connection, our experiences.
we have all encountered that person who says "oh yeah, me too" to every experience you describe... it's kind of like the empath demon version of Penelope. it's SO FUCKING ANNOYING. why? because it prioritizes the sameness of experience, the collapse of experience, over the invaluable process of listening to someone else's experience, finding sites of connection and sites of difference, and appreciating both.
when people act unaccountably, there is always a lack of care for the space between. often, a denial of its existence. sick.
*my favorite levinas quote speaks to this: "Violence is to be found in any action in which one acts as if one were alone to act; as if the rest of the universe were there only to receive the action; violence is consequently any action which we endure without at every point collaborating in it."